


Something to Warm Up the Soul

by In_Pieces



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Father-Daughter Relationship, Found Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28420437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Pieces/pseuds/In_Pieces
Summary: Sombra finds some booze and convinces Reaper to drink with her while they wait out a blizzard. Everything goes better than expected.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes & Sombra | Olivia Colomar
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Something to Warm Up the Soul

Sombra shivered, nose red and teeth gritting as she stepped inside the building. The mission had been a success, as expected, and they would've been back at Rialto already if the weather hadn't forced them to find refuge until someone could pick them up.  
  
The door was closed behind her, a gust of wind brushing past her neck. She tried to ignore the cold by tightening the grip on her gun as she scouted the place, seeing black smoke going the other way from the corner of her eye.  
  
The place was all clear from her end, and all she had to do was tap her fingers a couple of times to disable the cameras and wipe the existing footage from what appeared to be the boss' office. It was certainly cozier and warmer than the rest of the building, and the desk had a wonderfully plush chair that faintly smelled like cigarette smoke.  
  
That could only mean one thing.  
  
Sombra rummaged through the drawers, pleased to know her hunch had been correct, and wasted no time pressing the middle of the earpiece she had on, making it blink alive.  
  
"Come over here. Blue door at the end of the hall. I have a surprise for you."  
  
The surprise was placed in the middle of the desk, the amber liquid looking a bit dull under the fluorescent lights. The shot glasses she’d also found smelled like hand soap, so at least they were clean. She sat on the desk, legs swinging, and grinned when the door was opened.  
  
Gabe seemed unimpressed by her discovery and merely tossed something her way, letting it land unceremoniously on her lap.  
  
"Put it on."  
  
It was a black beanie with the company’s logo embroidered in pale yellow. Sombra thought it was ugliest thing she’d ever seen in her life, but it would do the trick. One of the downsides of having augments on her head was how short the hair surrounding them always had to be -and how much of a pain in the ass it was to trim it.   
  
"Thanks." She motioned to the chair in front of her and unscrewed the lid off the bottle. She had no idea what it was, but didn’t bother deciphering the label- where was the fun in that? She filled up the glasses, carefully sliding one Gabe’s way as he sat down. "This will warm us up."  
  
"I don't drink," Gabe replied. "And I told you to wear something warm."  
  
“I _am._ ” Sombra retorted, pulling up the sleeve of the thermal shirt she had under her 'work' clothes. That was the best she could do when Akande said he needed them there _today_ , and the weather forecast said nothing about a blizzard. "And I _know_ you drink." She’d seen him bringing booze into his room more than a couple of times, and had also found a picture of his old self holding a bottle away from his face, the liquid falling perfectly into his open mouth.

She downed the shot in one go, the taste of wood and smoke coating her tongue, leaving a lingering burn on the back of her throat. Whiskey. A pretty expensive one at that. "It’s good. You're going to like it."  
  
Gabe was giving him one of his signature broody stares and, to that, Sombra merely turned to her right, pretending the wall was interesting enough to catch her eye.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Looking away so you can drink."  
  
She’d never seen his face before, and knew him well enough to tell he didn’t want her to see what was behind the mask. So she waited, legs swinging, a small smile playing on her lips when she heard the glass sliding across the wooden surface. Sombra turned to face him only after she heard the empty glass was placed back on the desk.  
  
"Aw, look at us! I've always wanted to get drunk with you."  
  
"We won’t get drunk."

“You’re right. This won’t be enough.”  
  
Gabe begrudgingly clinked her glass after she topped them off again. This time, she looked at the diplomas on the wall. Or at least that’s what they looked like. They all had the same thing written above a dotted line. The boss’s name, probably.   
  
“Whiskey’s your thing, right?” She could picture Gabe staring out the window, nursing some whiskey with an obnoxiously-big ice sphere.  
  
“No. Tequila.”  
  
Sombra laughed. _Of course_.   
  
“Mezcal’s better.” She said. “I was at a bar a couple of months ago. A man was trying to impress me and asked for the worm at the bottom of the bottle. Gave the bartender 50 dollars to have it. I didn’t tell him he had to swallow it, so he chewed it.” Sombra laughed. “Should’ve seen the look on his face! He threw up all over the counter, left enough money to pay for my drinks, and left.”  
  
“Pathetic.”  
  
“And gross.” Sombra smiled when Gabe filled up their glasses. The beige paint was peeling off near a corner of the wall, and she could see a hint of seaweed green poking through.   
  
“Put on some music.”  
  
“Your pick or mine?”  
  
“Yours.”  
  
He was going to regret that. If the grin on her face wasn’t a dead giveaway of it, the first couple of seconds of the song that began to blast on the office’s speaker were. Low-pitched tubas and high-pitched trumpets followed the bass drum’s beat and, soon after, the singer’s not-so-melodious voice began to spew some heartbroken nonsense.  
  
“ _Sombra_.”  
  
“What? You said I could pick whatever I wanted.” Truth was she _hated_ that song, and figured so did he. She’d been to enough parties when she was young to know the lyrics by heart, but that wasn’t something she was particularly proud of. The hacker killed the music with a flick of her wrist, and chose something a bit more fitting.   
  
The sound of violins and a cello filled the room, a soft choir proving backup vocals before the drums and guitar kicked in. The singer’s gentle voice, full of emotion, made Sombra swing side to side. It was yet another heartache song, but this one was a _classic_. One of those ‘play this at 3 a.m. when you’ve had a few’ type of songs. She liked it, and Gabe seemed pleased with her choice.   
  
“Better?”  
  
“Better.” He echoed. Their glasses were full once again.  
  
She switched the sappy songs for classic rock after a while. Gabe was drumming his fingers to the beat. His version of dancing, maybe. His shoulders didn’t look as square, the tension slowly seeping off his body.   
  
Sombra thought the alcohol would make him a bit chatty but, sadly, that wasn’t the case. She’d been the one doing most of the talking, as usual, but that never meant he wasn’t listening. 

The bottle was almost empty now, and the hacker’s face felt as hot as her throat. Her first and only attempt to take the beanie off was cut short when Gabe gave her an earful that made her groan -and smile just a bit, even if it faltered the more she stared at a scuff mark on the wall.  
  
“Why do you care so much about me?” That question had been on her mind for far too long. She’d never been afraid to ask, but the moment never seemed right. Or at least that’s what she kept telling herself.

Gabe remained silent and, for a moment, Sombra thought he wasn’t going to answer.  
  
“You remind me of someone.” He finally said.  
  
“I’m not them.”  
  
“I don’t expect you to be.”  
  
Sombra nodded slowly, mulling over his words, and hopped off the desk. That'd been enough to make her slightly dizzy as she walked over to the old couch by the door and laid down. It smelled like dust. Everything was slowly spinning around her, the light above their head swinging from left to right, so she closed her eyes for a couple of seconds, hoping that’d be enough to make it all go away.  
  
“You remind me of my dad.”   
  
Maybe she got a little emotional when she was tipsy. Broody, too. And this whole drinking thing was starting to feel like a bad idea.   
  
Gabe didn’t look back. He filled up his glass and, then, placed his mask beside the bottle, head tilting back to let the liquid travel down his throat.   
  
“I’m not your father.”  
  
“I know. He was taller.” It wasn’t funny, but she laughed either way. “Can you pass me another shot?”  
  
“Come get it yourself.” 

Gabe didn’t put the mask back on, opting to merely extend his arm over his shoulder, drink in hand. He smelled like smoke and charcoal. She’d never noticed that before.   
  
“Do you trust me?”  
  
She must’ve looked a bit funny standing behind him with half a shot in her hand -Gabe’s way of telling her she had enough. The world was a little blurry and her brain was latching on to the few memories of her parents she could still remember. That never ended well.  
  
But he was there, and his mask was on the desk. It would be so damn easy to take another step and see his face. His best kept secret. But she wouldn’t. They both knew that. And maybe, just maybe, she _needed_ to hear that sliver of validation coming out of his mouth just to hold on to something else for the night.   
  
“Unfortunately.”   
  
“That’s a bad idea, _jefe_.”  
  
“So was this.”  
  
“Come on, we had fun.” Sombra sat back on the couch, drank her sad shot, and left the glass on the ground. “What time is it?”  
  
“4 a.m.”  
  
“Ugh. I miss my bed.” That was, roughly, the time she crashed. Her eyelids were growing heavy, the residual dizziness almost lulling. She saw Gabe pick up his mask from the corner of her eye and slide it over his face.  
  
“Sleep. I’ll keep guard.”  
  
“Can’t. It’s too cold.” Sombra let out an exaggerated sigh. “If only there was someone out there who wouldn't let me freeze to death.”   
  
The chair scraped against the wooden floor when he stood up, his presence slightly suffocating as he sat at the other end of the couch. Sombra smirked. He scoffed. Gabe was warm, his body temperature slightly higher than an average person’s.  
  
“I can set up an alarm if you want to sleep too.”  
  
“I’m fine.”  
  
Sombra hummed in response, leaning back against the soft cushions before she realized she could lie on her side. She did just that. Her head ended up on the armrest, body curled enough to make the position feel entirely too uncomfortable. The hacker closed her eyes and pulled the beanie down, shielding them from the light above. And, then, slowly stretched her legs, draping her calves over Gabe’s thighs.   
  
She thought he’d swat her away but, instead, he brought her legs up when they slid towards his knees, the cold tip of his gauntlet transferring through her clothes.   
  
“Wake me up when you get bored.”  
  
Sombra didn’t know how long she stayed like that. Her eyes were closed, her body completely relaxed, but something in her mind just didn’t allow her to sleep. She _was_ resting, however, and semi-aware of her surroundings. The music was still playing, albeit softly, and Gabe was still by her side. He hadn’t moved an inch. She chalked it up as one of those quirky Soldier things.  
  
She didn’t want to claim sleep never came because she was enjoying the moment, but there was something about it that made her feel all too warm inside. They were supposed to be big, bad, _heartless_ terrorists who shouldn’t enjoy the peaceful moments that came every so often, but she refused to do anything but relish them, especially now.  
  
Gabe’s raspy voice filled the air, snapping Sombra out of her thoughts.  
  
“We’ll be there in twenty.”  
  
She didn’t want to get up just yet. Ignored the three times he said her name, each utterance more annoyed than the last.   
  
“Get up. We’re leaving.”  
  
It took her a couple of minutes to sit up, eyes wandering around the room. Gabe got rid of the bottle and glasses, turning them into shards and tossing them in the trash can under the desk as she lazily cut the music.   
  
A thick layer of white coated everything outside. Sombra would’ve said it looked pretty if it didn’t make walking so damn difficult. The dropship was only slightly warmer than the city below, the occasional turbulence making things clatter here and there. She was certain Gabe was asleep, or at least trying to. His arms were crossed, head tilted down ever so slightly, chest steadily rising and falling.

Sombra sat by his side and draped an ugly brown blanket over his legs, leaving just enough fabric to also cover hers. Being half dead didn’t make him immune to the cold. The plane's emergency kit was deficient, but she could always count on the paramilitary forces to stock that little compartment with snacks and something to keep them warm. 

Today’s menu was half a box of apple cinnamon bars. Someone was feeling festive. She nibbled on one absently, eyes glued to the holographic screen she’d just pulled out in front of her, occasionally looking to her left to confirm both of them were still covered by the blanket. 

Gabe filled that annoying little void in her heart. Had been doing it for quite a while. He could be callous and difficult, but that made what they had even more special. Sombra was one of the lucky few who were allowed to see him with his guard down. The only one who could annoy him and come out unscathed. She truly appreciated it.

Maybe they'd never speak about it again- Gabe wasn't the talkative type, after all-, but Sombra didn't mind. She knew they would both continue to show it, in one way or another.

And, for her, that was more than enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
